ORIGIN

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The little selenite toddled out after its Overseer-parent spoke, quills prickling with simultaneous trepidation and curiosity. A writhing sensation crawled underneath its still-soft plating. It felt like anxiety or some pervasive sense of wrongness. Like it'd done something wrong. But, all of the other creatures in the litter were coming out of the Warren and it (wont as it was to just watch from the sidelines when they got too noisy) had to follow, clutching a worn, jagged stone in one of its left hands.

It regretted that decision immediately, four eyes blowing wide at the sight of... something - a creature on two legs like itself, slender and terrifying and sharp like the edge of its many impromptu knives. She stared at each of them, spoke, and a strange sense curled through Selenite. It squatted just behind one of Overseer-parent's massive legs, lips sealed out of sheer... awe? Wonderment? Quills clicked as it watched, unable to tear its eyes away.

All the while, though, Selenite fiddled with the stone, turning it over and over in its claws. Fidgeting as it watched, stock-still otherwise.
Hemlocke was many things, and an original was among them. It was lackluster and insignificant compared to other creatures - and its current design was not what was originally imprinted on its stone. As far as it knew, none of the garnets used in testing were awake - or even intact. Destroy any failures and recycle their stones. It was a nicely streamlined process.

So, that completely irrelevant tangent aside - the odd alien was on patrol with its spawn, Delta. It flew opposite to the cat-hybrid, wheeling away from Canis in time for Tunnel P's heat to swarm to sweltering. Feathers puffed on instinct, the feeling reminiscent of Hydra's everlasting burn. Ruby-red eyes twisted down, and were instantly captured by the being striding towards the chrysalises. The shape of Vargas below immediately grew deferential, and Hemlocke took that as a cue: stay high, stay respectful, stay out of it.

It did as much, perching and keeping a careful watch. A show for the brood... but of what sort? Vague worry crawled through its form. ... slaughter? It wasn't unusual, but they were untrained - they weren't in Hydra - they hadn't rebelled... ?
Every other creature in this cave was spared a sweeping glance, scanned with intense scrutiny - but they weren't given a shift in expression. The Lord looked at (through?) it and quirked a lip; and it half-expected them to peel back and bare in some sort of snarl.

Microexpressions and the intricacies of flatter faces were not something Orthoclase-Alpha was well-acquainted with, but base instinct warned against any single look it could've been given. It was acknowledgement of the sense of déjà vu plaguing it. She hadn't swept in with immortal heat before, nor had there been other witnesses to her presence; She hadn't even so much as looked at it, then. And, yet, it could almost feel the slicing tear of chitin peeling away from its face, the hot hot peel of blood dribbling down its face. Cotton filling its throat, a phantom choking grip around its throat.

The orthoclase's head dropped into a half-bow in response, and hung there. It continued to watch beneath its chipped brow. Only a few times did it even slightly avert its gaze: to peel off V-Chaos-Two and shove it towards Khavur; and, to half-growl at Nidhogg's nipping and direct its attention back forward. Vargas didn't need to utter that last command for it to obey and enforce that order.

Its concern for their spawn extended past having the effort put into them dashed across the rocks - but how far... ?

It had been in its guard spot the whole time, not far from the chrysalis - far enough to give them privacy, when Two had been around, but close enough that it would know if something came up. It was determined not to fail this job. The seriousness and importance had been drilled into its head and, even though multiple times it had considered just taking a nice long nap through the boring stillness of the tunnel, it forced itself to stay awake. Shoving aside its lazy, laid-back nature in favor of being vigilant.

But then...that presence burst into the tunnel and it froze where it sat. Its head lifted and eyes stared down the tunnel, quills raising in alarm. What was that?! It had never in its life felt a presence like this. Like Vargas's, after he'd become a Master, but...so much more. His was tiny in comparison. And even though the one that came in wasn't particularly gigantic creature - not compared to Vargas, at least - her height and her posture simply screamed dominance. And Ruby-Beta found themselves terrified.

It moved out of her way and crouched against the wall, bowing respectfully. Even when it raised its head up, it avoided her gaze, but still kept its eyes firmly fixed on whatever was about to happen. It didn't fully understand the situation, but she, and Master Vargas, had commanded that it watch, so it would watch. Intensely.

Scout managed to finally wiggle free of the venom that had been keeping her immobile for what had to be hours (but was in reality, maybe an hour and a half since she'd woken up). The spingbok staggered to her feet and pinned her ears, focusing on glaring down everyone in the room before doing anything truly important. She'd throw up a fuss in a minute, but first she had to burn her displeasure into the backs of whatever heads she could see.

And her gaze burned. Not like Dhracia's, of course, since Scout was just a stupid little creature with a walnut for a brain. Or maybe a shriveled apple.
Is this what it's like to wake up for the first time?

The thought, lacking in articulation, was more feeling than narrative. It was to receive the sensation and marvel over it. This, of being suddenly awake--without invitation nor coaxing, nor even an introduction, just without warning alive. This feeling, waking up for the first time. Is that what this is?

Then why did it feel so much like it had been awake before this?

Too infantile to define the dull cognizance of development--it was just birth ascribing instinct to the body. The instinct of separating dream from real, and of realizing the dangers that came imminent with existence. No, it wasn't sleeping anymore. A place from a dream... Now, was that the dream, or is this the place? Where was it, exactly? What was it? It turned its arms out and splayed its fingers on the only breast it had ever known, the hard stone warm with womb-phlegm.

A crack bit through the muffled shroud. It was dim and sharp and came from below--down. Curious feet grazed the walls in search of disparity, and found it, a shape like a scar. It tried to touch it with its hands, but found itself cramped in too tight of anatomy. No, it wasn't... itself that was malformed, it was... this. These walls. This warmth, nurturing; nurturing until it became claustrophobic. Its limbs squirmed over themselves, encountering a second feeling that complemented instinct: discomfort. The need to move, to be free, to destroy in order to satiate.

And as though by sheer force of will to exceed its container, the fissures spread. It pushed and endeavored itself larger. The walls would yield as though they accepted this Fate to be shattered, dissolved, chaotically spread. Hairline fractures became jagged clefts. No pattern but that of anarchic webbing hacked corners and facets away from the cage, until finally, finally, finally it all fell away. In a crackle, in a clatter--the womb broke apart from the beast, and it tasted life. Warmth that went cold, wetness that was absent of wet, dark that was--still dark, but now it was on its hands and knees and it could breathe.

The floor was a puddle, and hard like the wall. The air choked its nubile lungs until it coughed mucus out of its throat. Immediately, there was a sense of other, and the beast came to understand a critical, albeit rudimentary third concept in identity; distinguishing the self from all else. It was itself, and there were other things that were themselves that it could hear and smell and feel. But somehow, they all felt the same. Like they were metaphysically connected. It felt a part of itself in the two feet that stood in front of it, in the four feet that stood in front of it, in some pale hair and marble elsewhere.

Are you me? Am I you? it was inclined to feel.

And it felt, a second later, the answer to its own question when something incorporeal guided its mental hands to light its first fire. The chill, it was taught immediately, was a mockery of the state of normalcy; which it was not, and neither was the beast. Neither stasis nor catalysis were natural. It was invasive. But let it be the master of its own identity, invasive--no, powerful.

A thing from beyond encourages it to burn. Or, at least, to want to.

Then I must be a part of you. You, who makes me burn and break things apart to be sated.

This was the place from its dream. The place was real, and it was real, and the dream was real; this was the place, this was the dream. She realized she was still asleep. She wouldn't be truly awake for a long time. But yes, she did want to be awake. Yes, she did want what came with wakefulness; she wanted satiation, and she wanted destruction, and she wanted to be herself and something that was powerful. She wanted to eat to be powerful; and yes, she was hungry.

Her heart throbbed. She raised her heavy, lolling head, and stared at the darkness lapping tactile at her yawning fingertips.

~~~


The instant the oily chrysalis shattered, a human toddler toppled out in a pool of dark, warm fluid soaking the stone. Translucent black mucus rubbed her skin, pale beneath the blush of youth; it licked her thin white hair against her scalp, dripped from her narrow eyebrows and nose button with baby fat. A reflection moved in the tiny black gem embedded perfectly in the back of her neck, just barely in view as a dash of bruise-purple, a birthmark under the skin. She was, in all aspects, a young and flawless echo of the species that was delivered for examination, but she was not ethereal or elegant or graceful.

She was small and frail and clumsy, gasping wet shards and loam in her pudgy fingers, struggling to find voice. Unable to directly fixate or even acknowledge the audience observing her, because she couldn't see them, because her straw-yellow eyes wouldn't see.

The babe wobbled and shivered, blind.


This third round will be reserved for Vargas, NPC characters, and other characters upon request. For now, please enjoy the story as it continues to unfold!

photo by saad chaudhry


- THE LEVIATHAN -


How did she know?

The thought came to him abruptly, a strange question that rang through his mind, resonating, finding no answer but its own echoes. How had Dhracia known that it was time..?

Or was she forcing this hatching, herself? Vargas' toxic eyes trailed down the fracturing stone, down its fine fissures that began to widen into ruptures; pieces fell away. Fluid. Flesh. Pale; and alive. His question was forgotten: only another remained. What will it be like? The question of expectant parents everywhere, perhaps, except that Vargas was an artist under the heel and gun of a madman, a tyrant, a dictator who would shoot him if a hair was wrong and that was not an expectant parent's mind. Still, the fear wasn't the first thing on his mind. He was too businesslike, for that--too focused, too intent upon his goals, upon perfection, upon improving his own work. His thoughts, then, ran thus:

Will it be how I imagined? Will it emerge elegant, tall? -No, it is pudgy, there... small. Like Two was. -A child, then? Why is that? I did not intend to create it so, or has Dhracia (and Lord somehow did not make it into his mental monologue) forced it out too soon-? He glanced to his Lord for a moment, wondering, wary, and then back to the child as it spilled fully forth. The stone is correct. The hair, the skin- (jubilation struck, before he had any real chance at fear-) It is good! It is as I made it. It will mature into a sleek and powerful thing, ...unless Dhracia had made him create it purely so she could kill it, now, in front of him? But no; what purpose would that serve? There are methods in our madness, as chaotic as we may be, Vargas told himself, and hoped that it were true.

The child fell forward, into a puddle of the fluid, and Vargas glanced at Lord Dhracia, questioningly pausing with his arm instinctively reaching for the new hatch. Dhracia's nod was fractional, but it was enough; Vargas took the toddler by the arm, gently, supporting her to stand. "Here, child," he told it, his voice commanding but calm, quiet-

...She is blind, he realized, horror welling up in him. Yes, he had created her from Two's stone, but he had modeled her after Beatris. He'd studied her eyes, her vision capabilities, in light and dark, distance and close up-... How had this gone wrong? What else might be wrong--oh, but that didn't matter. Blindness meant this child was doomed from the outside, all else cast aside. Vargas grimaced, staring down into her straw-yellow eyes.

And he took a breath.

I have failed. Cold horror.

They would all die, then-? Or would Dhracia punish them, and give him a second chance, a harsh chance? Mercy was unlikely. Dhracia was not the sort to laugh and assure him that he'd get it right next time. No.

"She is blind, I think," he said, quietly; and then he cast that wary glance to Dhracia. If it was not the look of a dog expecting to be whipped, it was certainly the first step down that path. "I did not intend that." No excuse, no hasty assurances; those would not help. Lord Dhracia's decisions would be final; respect might impress her, but simpering, Vargas felt, would only piss her off.


The Lord's bated breath was conceived of anticipation in three degrees: for Vargas to acquaint with trepidation, to see what emerged from within the chrysalis, and to confirm a brand of failure which she already knew was inevitable. The chrysalis thumped from within its stygian walls, and it cracked and crumbled and then shattered, and what incubated within was at once presented to the nest and the one who commissioned it:

A tender little thing, white and pink and yellow.

Lord Dhracia narrowed her eyes.

How it squirmed on the floor like a pale grub. It was nothing like the human woman in presentation, only biology; but a little something like the hybrid, in puerility, in plaintiveness. It was weak. It was inept. It couldn't even lock its eyes on those that had been eagerly awaiting its arrival, improperly formed as its optical stems were, irises malnourished, pupils cloudy. Too soft to be effective in the arena. It was entirely disarming in how it tempted a maternal hand--

And that was what made it perfect.

Disapproval was the initial reflex that all such products of this nest yielded, and the world-ender earned no different. Its feeble display had Lord Dhracia twisting a lip. The expression dimmed when the Leviathan turned to her for permission to aid it, and she granted it as her own secret rebellion in fostering the compassion that he shouldn't have. She wondered how many other things-that-shouldn't-be-had were passed on to her bomb. Not that it mattered. Not that anyone here would ever see such faults come to fruition, if they even had an opportunity to. The babe struggled on its feet, and Vargas confessed to its most obvious flaw, and Lord Dhracia found herself torn between a retch of disgust and a shrill of delight.

It was perfect. Her good mood burned still, sustained by her premonition that it would turn out exactly as she'd hoped; but Lord Dhracia couldn't very well smile and sing before creatures that were meant to fear her, could she? So, she scowled. She looked at the thing as if it was tainted food, and at Vargas as if he was the one who harvested the blighted wheat. Blind, she wanted to chastise him, I expected better, but given the piteous state of your earlier creations, I shouldn't have. She wanted to strike him. My generosity must have made your head fat. She wanted to take his face and open his maw and make him eat the little newt himself. Sometimes, she forgot how to distinguish false anger from real.

Her prolonged silence was the only evidence that Lord Dhracia was not truly as nauseated as her expression implied; this was her chewing calculations with a level head. But only a confidante would know that. To all else, she was fuming, or maybe she was scheming how best to set this nest alight and ensure Vargas suffered eternities for his failure. They wouldn't know. She liked to keep them on their toes.

Finally, she broke her silence with damning reason: “Fortunate, then, that this bomb needn't rely on its senses to detonate.” More that it ran on a timer, and would come into its role depending only on time alone.

And time, Lord Dhracia had come to know, was the most faithful machine of all.

Lord Dhracia bridged the distance between herself and the Leviathan and the child in its arm. Curiosity nearly tugged her eyes to the surrounding brood, but she refrained--curiosity was a mortal sinew and Lord Dhracia was made of teeth and bone alone. She stood before them, looked down, tilted her head and assessed. Her snarled lip fed words of muted disdain, “It will suffice.”

It was perfect. Perfect! Beautiful little thing. Beloved mouse, delicate flower, fleeting puddle silver as a mirror. How wickedly she wished to kiss its cheek.

Instead, she held it in her stare with loathing that could not be quantified, except by that most sepulchered relief that the world-ender would never know how adept His Hand was at pretending.

“Your name,” she commanded.

The child was blissfully unaware of the stakes her existence imposed on those looking at her. Her head swam with a bounty of new information, to the point that wobbling and falling was barely an impediment of progress compared to all else she was absorbing. But the giant leather arm did not go unnoticed, nor unappreciated; when extended, she gripped it like a lifeline, its warmth a welcome reprieve from independence. She borrowed stability from it, arching her toes on the stone in plea of balance.

Two voices steeped the air, back and forth. Her head turned in the direction of one, closest and heavy in magnitude, as deep as the instinct driven in her and somehow--hers. Not of hers, but belonging to her. She is blind, I think. I did not intend that. But she didn't quite know what blind meant, or that it was a bad thing. She could only glean that she was she, and she was blind, and she wasn't meant to be.

Nurtured by a thing-that-shouldn't-be-had, she pointed her face in some direction that she thought the voice was, and smiled forgivingly. This big thing was hers, and she'd forgive it for making her blind, because the part of himself that the big thing gave her was mercy and she recognized mercy for this big thing and him only.

The voice that spoke next, however, would not be gifted such receipts.

Her expression fell away at the coldness, which she was ingrained to hate, that wove under words. She digested what was meant by fortunate and bomb and detonate, and when it was spoken that it would suffice, she no longer claimed this judgment for herself because now she was she and not it. The second presence loomed closer, and she clutched the arm tight in anticipation of what this new presence would deliver. She had already been blessed with the warmth and mercy of this arm of this beast that was hers, now she hungered for more.

What this second presence gave her was the concept of absence: warmth without relief, and mercy without kindness. And though she was hungry, she was not so certain she liked the taste of it.

She shrank as the presence bore down on her, exuding chaos that she couldn't help but covet. Fiendish femininity that would imprint as also belonging to her, but not in need of mercy. So what would she give back, if not something it was gifted in the first place?

A name, was what she wanted.

The child pondered this request. There was a secret library of wisdoms encoded in the oily stone in the back of her neck, and she need only tap into it to find what she was looking for. She thought there was something appealing to her heuristic rooting--but the disconnect between her natal designation and control of her tongue ran the risk of fatality. She opened her mouth to speak, and stumbled.

“Mm...”

No, no, not quite.

“Mmma...”

She tried again and on realizing her deficiency, fell quiet. She read the darkness for a clue. She searched the vaults for the guiding hand, again. And she recognized the hand when she found it, took its fingers; it didn't belong to the arm of her beast, but she realized that this was an extension of an arm of another kind. This was Creator granting her identity out of freedom. This was to say that whatever name might have been attached to a stone or a life or even an intention, she was not bound to it. This was to say that she was powerful and her own thing, and as such she could pick whatever name was coaxed from her tongue in agency.

So, she lifted her eyes and implored to please the asker with her first decision,

“Mary.”

And on receiving a hum from Lord Dhracia, Mary smiled at her, too.

photo by saad chaudhry


- THE LEVIATHAN -


Seconds ticked by in the silence of Lord Dhracia's stare.

The weight of the child propping itself on his arm was, abruptly, the heaviest burden Vargas had ever carried. This infant, or near enough to be--this creation carefully woven of a now-dead woman whose wretched kindness and simpering fear were now lost forever; of a broken, blind dog-child defiantly demanding its father against unimaginable monsters; of the most powerful, chaotic magic Vargas knew--that child, that unique child, now leaned on the one arm that sustained its life. And if Dhracia chose to snuff it out, in this next instant; if its blindness was too great a failing then all of that unique being would be lost. It was not a considered thought, but an emotion, in Vargas: a brief, keen fear and grief, not perhaps as intense as it might have been in a true parent but it was there nonetheless: he feared what Lord Dhracia might do to this one, now.

Three...

He showed nothing of it, showed nothing, in fact, watching, awaiting her judgment, but his heart hammered those seconds away. Was she waiting for him to speak..? He had spoken; there was little more he could say or do, but to wait for what she decided. And had she already-? In Vargas' mind, she must be coldly enraged: trying to control her emotions before passing an undoubtedly harsh judgment. What would come--a hissing cold, the crack of frost in her breath, the stab of ice in her words, as she sentenced the child--and the rest of them behind it--to death?

Five...

He refrained from glancing behind him. Hid that nervousness. Were the children--the spawn--still watching? Would she lash out at one of them--take their eyes, perhaps? Order him to? He could do it--but he would not live with it so easily. It would not be the first set of eyes he had torn from a living creature on the command of a Master, or greater--willingly, even.

Six...

Control your breathing. Keep the child upright--for her to view, for it. What would be its fate-? His touch remained gentle, and he felt pity for the thing--only so soon hatched, and now to be destroyed.

Seven...

...But what of the rest of the nest? I spent so long PERFECTING this-... She must give me more time. Judging the whole of the nest by this second, imperfect creation; I ACHED over this. I studied every detail-... I left nothing to chance! ...How could this have happened? She must allow me to try again.

Eight...

A second spent in breathlessness. A blank mind. Thoughts that had run their course, and did not know where next to turn. The vivid sensation of tiny hands, trusting hands, gripping his arm. And would this be the last time-? The last thing they ever touched?

Nine...

Vargas bit it down. He swallowed back those faint and fleeting emotions; they did nothing for him. He had remained, standing, waiting, rigid-faced (made all the more easy by the thick and pebbled skin there--expression did not come easily to him to begin with)... but now he pushed it away more firmly. I have a job to do. ...I just need to wait to find out what it is. And so he waited, ever the obedient servant, his spine a rod of iron called 'necessity,' his firmness that of 'no other option.' And what a travesty that was; but it was reality, and only the survivors proved the winning decisions. Weakness was never among those. Though his strength had once come from belief, passion, from blind faith, the core tenet still remained: strength was the only truth worth believing in.

Ten.

'Fortunate, then, that this bomb needn't rely on its senses to detonate.' Coldly indifferent, but Vargas knew it as unexpected mercy. The child was of use. Lord Dhracia would allow this... This blinded, useless thing, to serve her needs. But how-? He did not know, but it didn't matter. 'It will suffice,' was all she said to him, and it was all he could do to not exhale, to not allow himself to dwell on the thousand ways she could have chosen to torture and murder them all, to slump in relief. And perhaps it was a mercy, too, that there was none of that praise that he so craved: that approval from her poisoned tongue that had him lapping at it for more. Those hooks that she could spear him with were kept at bay and he was still his own; his own to remain silent, aloof, attentive, perfectly her servant, as she turned her attention to the child.

As she spoke to it.

As it decreed itself, 'Mary.'

Vargas did not speak, not yet; he simply bowed his head ever-so-slightly, a nod of acknowledgement, of respect, at his Lord's decision. Past that he waited--her attention was on Mary, now, and when she wanted his words, she would ask for them.

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